


lean on me

by daisylincs



Series: Lily's Season 7 Countdown [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, AoS Season 7 Countdown, Daniel Sousa Is An Angel, Day 4, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friendship, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Lily's Season 7 Countdown, Past Lincoln Campbell/Skye | Daisy Johnson - Freeform, Past Peggy Carter/Daniel Sousa - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:02:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25671019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisylincs/pseuds/daisylincs
Summary: If you had told her a month ago that this was where she would end up, she would never have believed you.Daisy Johnson,working in acoffee shop?It seemed preposterous!And if you had told her she would end up making a friend here - and not just any friend, either, but a friend who actually understood what she had gone through, and who was so nice it was honestly a little unbelievable - well, then she would have laughed in your face.But here she was.
Relationships: Skye | Daisy Johnson & Daniel Sousa
Series: Lily's Season 7 Countdown [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1755688
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30
Collections: AOS Season 7 Countdown





	lean on me

**Author's Note:**

> Let me explain about the Major Character Death. My prompts for Day 4 of this horrifically late Season 7 Countdown were Angst and Coffee Shop - and after I'd quite finished cringing at just _how_ late I was, this got me thinking. This series is about Daisy Johnson, right? And one of the biggest Angst moments in her life is, of course, Lincoln’s death.
> 
> So for this AU, Lincoln died. *winces* I’m so sorry!! I don’t actually describe anything about his death, but pretty much the entire plot revolves around it, so I thought it made sense to put the Archive Warning in there. 
> 
> The next thing I want to say is _why_ I wrote this story. I started it right after 7x05 came out - you know, the one where people first started shipping Daisy and Sousa. And at that point, I was quite against the ship, because I’ll always be salty about Staticquake, lol. I wanted Daisy and Sousa to stay platonic in canon, so I could have my cake and write the Lincoln Lives time travel fic. 
> 
> So I decided to turn to fic, my go-to for expressing myself, and write a story about how I think Daisy and Sousa could be really good friends - _without_ making anything romantic. 
> 
> Well, stuff happened, and I found myself busy with other projects and writer’s block. And by the time I turned to this fic again, 7x09 had happened. Daisysous was canon. 
> 
> I spent a lot of time yelling about it with my friends, and generally tearing myself apart about it - because I really, really want Daisy to be happy (she deserves it so _much,_ dammit) but I’m _not_ ready to let go of Staticquake. 
> 
> And then I realised: I don’t have to. I still have _fanfiction._ I can basically do whatever I want, and it’s all summed up tidily in the little tag “Alternate Universe.” I can create as many AUs where Daisy and Lincoln are happy as I want!
> 
> But the thing is - Daisy _in canon_ deserves to be happy just as much as she deserves it in my AUs. 
> 
> Once I realised that, it was just a matter of easing myself into the Daisysous ship. Because the thing is… I kind of developed this whole wince-whenever-they-have-a-scene together attitude over the last couple of episodes, because to me, shipping Daisysous meant letting go of Staticquake. And I couldn’t do that. So basically what happened was in every Daisysous scene, I sat there wincing and wishing it was over already.
> 
> Which is really stupid, actually, because they have _great_ scenes and wonderful chemistry.
> 
> So I took this fic idea and basically completely rewrote it, with the sole purpose of showing (a) what a great person Daniel Sousa is (I think I’m in love with him now lol) and (b) how wonderful he is with Daisy. When I say showing it, I mean showing it to _myself_ \- so I can stop wincing and avoiding their scenes together, and start appreciating just how wonderful they are.
> 
> This fic in itself isn’t explicitly romantic - not at all, actually. It’s about healing. (And a coffee shop, lol.) But I do think it underlines all the best qualities of Daisy and Sousa’s relationship, at least for me. 
> 
> The title of this fic comes from _Lean On Me_ by Bill Withers, which is a lovely song and all about supportiveness and caring, and honestly just _perfect_ for the two of them. 
> 
> Now, with no further ado - because looking back I'm realising how incredibly _long_ this Author's Note has been - thank you very much for stopping by, and I hope you like this fic!!

Daisy's phone buzzed on the dashboard of her van, and she reached for it without taking her eyes off the road, flipping it over so she could see the caller ID. 

_Fitz & Jemma._

Biting her lip, Daisy turned the phone over, abruptly cutting off the buzzing. 

She didn't want to talk to Fitzsimmons now. She knew they only meant well, but hearing their attempts at sympathy now, when they quite simply _didn't understand,_ wasn't something she was ready to face yet. 

They tried so hard to be there for her, all of them. 

But they just couldn't. Not with this. 

How could they? None of them _understood._

And the thing was, Daisy was _glad_ they didn't understand. She wouldn't wish this pain - this feeling that her heart had been ripped right out of her chest and driven over by the same truck that killed her boyfriend - on _anyone._

She couldn't even think his name without her throat closing up, the tears burning at her eyelids threatening to choke her and flood her and drown her until there was nothing left. 

It was why she couldn't stay. Not when every little thing held some memory of him, of _them_ \- the mountain trail where they had hiked up on their first date, the lab where he had worked with Fitz and Jemma, the apartment where they had moved in together just a few weeks ago. 

Her family tried to be there for her, tried _so hard_ that it hurt even more. 

Because though they were all trying, _they_ still had the people they loved right next to them. They still had their partners, and when they thought Daisy wasn’t looking, they were still so completely, radiantly happy together.

She couldn’t even hold it against them. She _wanted_ them to be happy.

But right now, it was just a painful reminder of everything she had lost - and another reason why she couldn’t stay.

Her stomach rumbled loudly, cutting into her morose thoughts, and she gave a slightly watery laugh. That parts of her could still be so _normal,_ while most of her felt like she had been shattered from the inside out…

Squinting slightly against the sun, she tilted her head to read the sign-board on the side of the road. _Carter’s Coffee._

_Well, if there’s coffee, there’s food,_ she thought, and took the turning.

There was a guy coming around the back of the little shop as she drove in, and he glanced up, surprised, as her van pulled up next to him.

“Oh, hi,” he said, shifting the stack of disposable coffee cups he was carrying to the other arm and moving to get her door for her. “I haven’t seen you around before.”

Taken aback by how _gentlemanly_ the gesture was, it took Daisy a moment to realise her door was open. 

When she did, she jumped quickly out of the van, pushing the guy out of the way before he could even think of closing the door for her. “Thanks,” she said, curt and clipped.

He tipped his head back slightly, and she fully expected anger or annoyance, because yeah, that had been pretty rude of her.

Instead, his expression softened, something indefinable shifting in his gaze. “Would you like to come in?” he asked, and the way he phrased it made it clear that she didn’t _have_ to unless she wanted to.

She shook her head slowly. Was he for real? 

“I… yeah,” she said, when she found her tongue. “Yeah, I’m coming in.”

“Great,” he said, his gaze warm, and Daisy found herself shifting away. He was just so _genuine._

“So, uh, what can I do for you?” he asked, following her into the coffee shop. 

Daisy turned around, surprised. “Wait, you own this place?”

He spread his arms in a cheery half-shrug, but Daisy saw a flash of sadness she knew all too well in his gaze. “I do now.”

“Ah.” She didn’t push, and he didn’t elaborate further. 

Instead, she tilted her head to one side, studying the menu he had up on the wall. “Um… I’ll have a standard cappuccino, please, with some of those chocolate chip muffins.”

“Coming right up,” he said, that soft, warm look that made Daisy want to shift away filling his gaze again.

The last person who had looked at her that way had been… 

She couldn’t think of that now. She’d break down, and she _could not_ do that here.

“Hey,” the guy’s voice said, cutting into her thoughts, and she wondered if that had been an accident, or if he had somehow _known_ she was going into a spiral. By all rights, it _should_ have been an accident, but something about his eyes…

“You okay there?” he asked, and his voice was just so _warm_ she had to take a step away.

“Yeah,” she said, clearing her throat. “Yeah, I’m totally fine.”

“Okay,” he said, still in that warm tone, his gaze never shifting from her face. “Here’s your cuppa.”

“Thanks,” she said, taking it quickly and starting for the door.

“Hey,” he said, just as she was about to turn the handle. 

She turned around, coffee and muffins balancing in one hand, and raised her eyebrows at him. 

He was standing just about as she had left him, a dish towel in one hand, and a teaspoon in the other. “Okay, I know this is going to sound weird,” he said. “But do you… can I offer you a job?”

She blinked. Out of all the scenarios she had been expecting, this was pretty much _last_ on her list.

“What?” she asked, not sure if she had heard correctly.

He sighed, putting down the mug he was drying. “I’m sorry if this sounds a little forward,” he said. “But I know where you are. I’ve been there.”

He walked around the counter, coming to a stop right in front of her. “And, look, I know it’s none of my business,” he continued. “And if that’s what you want, you can walk right out of that door and never have to see me again.”

He took a quick, deep breath. “But as someone who’s been where you are… if I can help you in any way, I want to.”

With anyone else, any _where_ else, Daisy would have walked out immediately, probably with a snappy retort about minding your own business.

But this guy… his gaze was so sincere, so _warm,_ that she couldn’t help but believe that he really, truly wanted to help her.

“I…” she said, dropping her gaze to the floor. It was wood; a warm, golden kind of colour that somehow just seemed like _home._

She traced the little whorls and loops of darker colour on the wood with her eyes, chewing her lip as she agonised over the guy’s offer.

She didn’t want to settle down anywhere. She _couldn’t._

But she also couldn’t run forever.

“I’ll think about it,” she told him, glancing up and offering him a tentative smile.

He smiled back, still so soft and warm. “Okay.”

// 

The next morning, Daisy still hadn’t decided what she was going to do. After a long night of weighing up the alternatives, the best she had managed to come up with was a list:

 _Reasons To Take The Guy Up On His Offer_  
_#1 - He seems like he genuinely wants to help (note to self: what’s his deal? Find out.)_  
_#2 - He seems like he might actually understand, and it’s kinda nice_  
_#3 - Working a steady job could distract from… you know_  
_#4 - Could use a job, can’t keep running forever, etc. etc._  
_#5 - Free coffee and muffins ___

_Reasons NOT To Take The Guy Up On His Offer_  
_#1 - I don’t even know his name_  
_#2 - I can’t just trust a random stranger, May would flip (literally)_  
_#3 - I don’t think I can settle down anywhere yet_

There was… no clear conclusion, no obvious moment of _aha,_ this is what I should do - because both lists had good points. Both lists were right, in their own way. 

Daisy buried her head in her hands and groaned. Fabulous. Zero sleep last night, and all for the stunning progress of _...uh, about that._

What she _really_ needed right now was a strong, hot cup of coffee. 

… Oh, even _more_ fabulous. 

She sat up and glared at the wall of her crappy motel room. Coffee? Really, brain? She wanted coffee _now?_

That was just _perfect._ Absolutely perfect. 

Because there was no way in hell she was putting her mouth anywhere near something made in this motel - if the quality of the beds was anything to go by, she didn’t even want to _imagine_ what the coffee tasted like. 

And, of course, since she didn’t know the town… 

There was only one place she could go for good coffee. 

Joy. Absolute, flipping _joy._

“Alright, Coffee Guy,” she said, standing up from her bed and scowling at her reflection in the cracked mirror on the vanity. “It seems I _will_ be seeing you again.” 

How was she supposed to feel about that? She really didn’t know. 

On the one hand, there was nothing about Coffee Guy that made her _dis_ like him. He was kind, and quietly supportive, and he didn’t push; and honestly, in any other situation, he would be just the kind of guy Daisy would really like. 

But the idea of settling down somewhere - _anywhere_ \- made her stomach turn over on itself. 

Less than a month ago, she had been ready to settle down - _really_ settle down. She had never lived more than two years in one place before, but in Shieldton… she had had her friends, the people who had pulled her out of her van and made her feel wanted for the first time in years, the people who had become her family in a way no foster parents had ever come close to. And she had had her boyfriend, who made her smile like there was nothing in the world to be sad about, who told her stupid puns and baked her chocolate chip cookies and stayed up until unthinkable hours in the morning with her when she couldn’t sleep. 

She had been ready for the white picket fence life - they had bought the flat, she had signed the contract on her first-ever steady job, she had put up framed photographs for the first time in her life, and they had even looked into buying a _dog._

Then, the accident. 

She still couldn’t look at a Hive’s Honey truck without feeling her throat close up and her vision blur with tears. 

And just the thought of settling down anywhere… she couldn’t do it. She just _couldn’t._

She pulled up in front of Carter’s Coffee, suddenly intensely grateful for all the crazy driving stunts Coulson had put her through. Thanks to that, driving while lost in thought seemed like a tame, totally safe thing to do. 

Coffee Guy - God, she really needed to get his name, didn’t she? - was busy shaking out a carpet in front of the shop when she parked her van. He looked up, and the grin that spread across his face when he saw her was almost enough to prompt an answering smile from her. 

Almost. She hadn’t really smiled since the accident. 

“It’s _so_ good to see you,” the guy said, and his voice was all warmth and sincerity, and God, he actually meant it all. 

Daisy shifted from foot to foot, suddenly feeling incredibly guilty. He had done nothing but go out of his way to be nice to her, and here she was, inevitably disappointing him. 

The guy, curse him and his damned _perceptiveness,_ immediately noticed that something was off. “Hey, uh, is… everything okay?” he asked, stopping with the carpet half-way folded over his arm. 

“I…” Daisy began, dropping her gaze to the floor. Oh, she was going to feel like such an _asshole_ when she left this place. 

That _smile,_ damn him. 

She steeled herself and looked up at him again. “I just came for a cup of coffee,” he said, willing her voice not to shake. 

The guy’s whole face seemed to dim, and Daisy was already kicking herself mentally. Dammit, dammit, _dammit._ Why did she have to destroy every good thing that came into her life? 

The guy was watching her, and his gaze was all kinds of softness and understanding she _really_ didn’t want right now. “Okay,” he said softly. “I get it.” 

That was just _too much._ How could he bend himself over backwards for her like this, be nothing but nice, then say he _understood_ when she rejected him? 

How _could_ he understand? How _dare_ he say he understood? _Nobody_ could understand, least of all someone as… as unfailingly _nice_ as him! 

“You don’t!” she shouted, and she said it with so much force that it carried her forwards a step. “You DON’T understand, and you have no right to say you do! You have no right to say you _get it_ when you don’t know what it feels like to have the person you love ripped away from you!” 

She was crying, she realised with an angry start, and reached up to swipe fiercely at her eyes. “You don’t get to be this… this _perfect_ when you don’t know what it’s like.” 

“Hey,” the guy said, reaching for her arm. She swatted him away blindly, but he caught her hands and gripped them. “Hey, hey, hey.” 

“Get away from me,” she said, the words coming out half a sob and half a shout. 

“Come on, sit down,” he said, guiding her over to the steps in front of the coffee shop. “Sit down. Hey. It’s okay.” 

She yanked her arm away from him, her gaze burning. “It’s NOT okay!” 

“You’re right, it’s not,” he amended, spreading his arms. “It hurts. It hurts like hell, and you don’t think it’ll ever go away.” 

_“Stop_ it,” she snarled when he reached for her arm again. “Stop… acting like you understand! You _don’t.”_

“Maybe I do,” he said, and something in his gaze gave her pause, enough that she didn’t fight as he gently caught her arm again and got her to sit down on the step. 

“It’s not the same,” he said, dropping her arm and crossing his arms in his lap. “But I do know what it’s like to lose someone you care about.” 

He tilted his head so he was staring out at the road ahead of them, at the cars whizzing by the sign that said Carter’s Coffee. “The woman this place is named after? Peggy Carter. I cared a lot about her. A lot.” 

“She’s not… gone,” he said, seeming to anticipate her question before she could even ask it. “She… had someone before me. A boyfriend. And we all thought he died, and Peggy was just starting to open herself up to moving on when… he came back.” 

“He was in a coma for seven years,” the guy said, his smile sad as he watched the cars. “And when he woke up, he… the first thing he did was look for Peggy. He still felt the same. And she… well, she always knew he was the love of her life.” 

She tilted her head to watch him properly as he continued. “And Peggy never meant to hurt me, _never._ It’s just… when Steve came back into the picture, our plans faded into the back. I could never even blame her; I know this was always her way of building herself a second chance.” 

“But it still hurts that she left,” Daisy said softly. 

The guy turned to her, a small, half-sad smile playing on his lips. “Yeah.” 

She swallowed. “Look, I’m… I’m really sorry I yelled at you. I was way out of line. You didn’t deserve a word of it.” 

“It’s okay,” he said, and his gaze had gone all soft and warm again. “I know it sometimes… helps, to let some of it out.” 

Daisy gave a slightly watery laugh. “Maybe, but I’m betting you never yelled at a random stranger.” 

“Well, no,” he said, giving her a slightly crooked grin. “But there can only be one of you, after all.” 

She smiled, and the tug of it at her lips felt almost fully genuine, almost really happy. “Well, uh,” she said, tilting her head to meet his gaze properly. “There’s only one of you, too, Mr…” 

“Sousa,” he supplied, his smile warm. “Daniel Sousa.” 

“Well, Mr Sousa,” she said, standing up and offering him her hand. “It looks like you’ve got yourself a new employee.” 

// 

Her first day on the job consisted of her basically just learning the ropes, and it was about as awkward as you could imagine. But luckily, Daisy had always picked things up quickly, and soon she was making lattes and baking muffins like nobody’s business.

If you had told her a month ago that this was where she would end up, she would never have believed you. _Daisy Johnson,_ working in a _coffee shop?_ It seemed preposterous!

And if you had told her she would end up making a friend here - and not just any friend, either, but a friend who actually understood what she had gone through, and who was so nice it was honestly a little unbelievable - well, then she would have laughed in your face.

But here she was.

“Hey, Daisy, are those muffins ready?” Sousa called from the back, sounding like he was in the middle of balancing too many coffee cups in one hand.

“Two minutes,” she replied, biting back a grin at the sound of paper cups clattering to the floor. “And what did I tell you about the cups?”

“Not to try and balance more than five of them at a time,” Sousa said, appearing from the back sans coffee cups and with a rather embarrassed look on his face.

She twirled around to face him, her hands on her hips. “And what did you do?”

He was grinning, half-embarrassed, and half that trademark Daniel Sousa soft warmth. “Tried to balance more than five of them at a time.”

She grinned back as she reached for her oven gloves, waving a mixing spoon in his face. “You’re really just _asking_ to drop them, you know that, right?”

“Yup,” he said cheerfully, reaching over to take the tray of muffins from her.

She slapped his hands away. “Don’t be stupid, chivalry’s not worth getting your hands burned for -”

“Isn’t it?” he asked innocently, taking the other tray before she could stop him. “Besides,” he added, holding up his hands, “I was quick. No burns, see?”

“You were _lucky,”_ she said, her hands on her hips. “One of these days, you’re going to burn your fingers right off, and I’m just going to laugh.”

“While taking me to the hospital, I hope?” he asked dryly.

She snorted, but there was a little grin tugging at her lips. “While taking you to the hospital.”

Sousa was watching her, his head tilted slightly to the side, a little smile playing on his face.

“What?” she asked, dropping her spoon into the bowl of batter. “What is it?”

His expression was warm and full of easy affection. “You’re smiling.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly feeling a little defensive. “What, aren’t I allowed to smile, now?”

He rolled his eyes, but there was only warmth behind it. “Of course you’re allowed to smile,” he said, his eyes warm and sincere as he caught her gaze and held it. “It’s just really good to see it. You haven’t smiled that much since I met you.”

Daisy dropped her gaze to the muffin batter in the bowl, then thought it over and looked up to meet his eyes again. “It’s because of you, you know,” she said, and some of his ever-present warm sincerity must have rubbed off on her, because her voice was just _full_ of it. “Working here, it’s… it’s really helped me.”

Sousa’s gaze was soft. “Well, I’m glad I could help, but the credit should really go to you -”

“No,” she interrupted, spinning away from her batter to look at him properly. “This last month with you - it’s showed me something I don’t think I would have figured out so easily on my own.”

“What’s that something?” he asked, his eyes just so incredibly _soft_ as he looked at her.

“Well, you showed me that it’s possible to build a life for yourself, a _good_ life, even after you feel like you’ve lost everything,” she said, holding his gaze. “And yeah, it takes time; and yeah, it’ll never really stop hurting.

“But you _can_ find something that makes you smile again. And even if it’s something as simple as muffin batter -”

“Or burned fingers,” he interjected, eyes sparkling.

“Or burned fingers,” she agreed, her lips tugging up in a grin. “The point is, Sousa, I’m… I’m really glad you reached out to me that day.”

“I’m glad too,” he said, and she could see that he really meant every word. A rush of affection filled her stomach, and she let it soften into a smile - a warm, genuine one just for him. 

Because the thing was, he really _had_ done that much for her.

She was just about to say something else when her phone buzzed, _The Scientist_ by Coldplay blaring from the speakers.

She hid a smirk as Sousa jumped at the sound - he _still_ wasn’t used to her song ringtones.

But any merriment faded quickly as the song continued to play, the lyrics hammering uncomfortably close to home - _nobody said it was easy, it’s such a shame for us to part._

Squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, she grabbed blindly for her phone and declined the call.

The silence in the coffee shop was deafening.

“Daisy,” Sousa said at last, slowly; “don’t you think you should…?”

“No,” she snapped, returning to her batter and starting to stir it with almost aggressive ferocity.

Sousa sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know you don’t feel ready -”

“That’s right,” she said sharply. “I don’t feel ready.”

She could feel his gaze on her back as she scooped batter into the tray, her movements quick and sharp.

“Daisy…” he said, as she had known he would.

“Sousa, _no,”_ she said, and the harshness of her voice surprised her. “Drop it, okay?”

He sighed deeply. “You know I hate to push -”

“Well then don’t,” she said, turning back to her scooping.

She could practically see the conflicted expression on his face, even though her back was turned. 

“Look,” he said at last, and she wasn’t _prepared_ for how gentle he would sound, dammit. “I know it’s really hard. I _know._ But you can’t keep cutting your people out of your life.”

Her shoulders were tense, and she refused to turn around and look at him. “It’s none of your _business,_ Sousa,” she said, in a tone she hadn’t used on him since that time she had yelled at him.

“Actually, I think it _is_ my business,” he said, crossing over to stand right next to her and gripping her wrist to stop her from scooping any more batter. “I’m your friend. Or, at least, I hope I am.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Of course you’re my friend, Sousa, I -”

“Then _listen_ to me,” he said, letting go of her wrists in favour of gripping her shoulders. “Hey. _Daisy.”_

She opened her eyes slowly, reluctant to meet his gaze because she just _knew_ she would weaken if she saw the inevitable warmth and concern there. 

He gave her shoulders a little shake so she _had_ to look at him.

Reluctantly, Daisy met his gaze, and stilled as she saw the fierce emotion there. She couldn’t put a name to _what_ it was, but it was _far_ more intense than she had been prepared for.

“You said I’ve shown you it’s possible to build a good life, right?” he said, his gaze on hers electric. “Well then you have to actually _build_ it, okay? You have to build it, and the way you do that is by letting your people back in.”

“But I’m not -”

“You’re not over Lincoln,” he agreed, his hands still gripping her shoulders. “But I’m not over Peggy. I don’t think I’ll ever be, and that’s _okay._ Daisy, that’s _okay.”_

“But -”

“But you _can’t_ keep cutting your people out of your life,” he cut her off again, his gaze fierce and earnest as he looked down at her. “Look. You said it yourself, right? I helped you see that you could smile over things again.”

“That isn’t the same,” she protested. “This is…”

“These are friends who have known you for _years_ longer,” he said, his grip on her shoulders intensifying. “If I could get you to smile again, just _imagine_ how much they could help you.”

She opened her mouth to protest again, a thousand different retorts and responses at the tip of her tongue, but then her phone started ringing again.

She closed her eyes and sagged into Sousa’s arms, doing her best to block out the sound. 

“You really think I should talk to them?” she asked, her voice coming out a lot softer than she probably would have liked.

She felt him shift a little, but he didn’t push her away. “Yeah,” he said softly, shifting his head so it was resting on top of hers.

Daisy exhaled a long, slow breath, half-hiding her face in his blue shirt. 

Almost tentatively, he wrapped his arms around her waist, and when she didn’t protest, he pulled her closer so he was hugging her properly.

“You deserve that good life,” he said into her hair. “And you deserve it with your friends. All of them.”

She let out a long sigh, lifting her head from his shoulder to meet his gaze. “I’m just not sure if I’m ready to talk to them,” she said softly, frankly.

“You’ll never know until you find out,” he said, his gaze soft and encouraging. “Besides, you were smiling this morning. Properly. Remember?”

She could feel her lips tugging up a little already. “Yeah. I remember.”

“Well, then you can see this as just one step up from that,” he said, still in that quiet, encouraging tone. “It doesn’t have to be for long, or even frequent. Not at first. Remember when you first started here, you wouldn’t even smile at me when I said hi?”

She ducked her head in his shoulder again. “Shut up, you’re making me feel like an asshole.”

His shoulders shook softly as he laughed. “You’re no asshole,” he said, and good God, this man really had a gift for making things sound incredibly soft and sweet, didn’t he? 

“The _point_ is,” he said, lifting one arm from around her waist to tilt her chin up to look at him, “this morning, you were laughing at my burned fingers.”

That got a proper laugh out of her. “Well, you _were_ being ridiculous.”

“I’m not denying that,” he said, his eyes shining with amusement. “But, hey, it’s progress, right?”

Daisy tilted her head to look at him, and she was sure her gaze had to be almost as soft and warm as his always was. “Yeah,” she said, feeling a small, affectionate smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, it is.”

She let herself stay in his embrace for a second longer, then stepped away, self-consciously running a hand through her hair. “Okay, then,” she said, taking a deep breath and reaching for her phone. “Let’s do this.”

Swiping her finger across the screen, she unlocked the phone, hovering just above the little icon that said _Fitz & Jemma._

When he saw her hesitating, Sousa held up his hand. “Hey. Burned fingers, remember?”

She rolled her eyes, but she was grinning as she pressed the _call_ button. “Burned fingers it is.”

Sousa was smiling at her, soft and encouraging, and Daisy took a moment to smile back at him before she put the phone against her ear. 

“Hello?”

**Author's Note:**

> Daniel Sousa is an angel. The end.
> 
> (P.S. - In case anyone was wondering, this fic _did_ work. Staticquake will always be my forever OTP - and there’s a whole story behind that one, lol - but I’m now super-soft for Sousy as well. They’re just so SWEET and SOFT and ahhhh, I think my heart just exploded.) 
> 
> (P.P.S. - Dousy is the official ship name now? _Dousy?_ Really? I _much_ preferred Daisysous, or Sousy, or even Daisiel!! Grrr. Dousy. _Really,_ guys?)


End file.
